As of 8:02 on the evening of January 14, 2016, my desktop wallpaper is of a colorful little monster. His appendages are striped with blue. His round tummy is a tomato-red. His furry top is the yellow of sunshine with two strips of orange band-aids for eyebrows. His wide, green eyeballs play peekaboo with me. His horns are a pastel purple.
Do you remember when you were little–
everything was exciting?
everything was magical?
everything was new?
everything had a color?
Even the imaginary.
As you get older, the colors fade. the shapes ooze out of their edges. life becomes mundane. i told you so; i told the world so. the imaginary gives place to the real. And the only imaginary that lasts is the imaginary death, or the imaginary bankruptcy, or the imaginary illness, or the imaginary end of the world right now. The “what ifs” become more and more real.
How uncolorful the what ifs are.
Black. Gray. Brown. Fuzzy. Moldy. Mushy. Threatening.
I want my world, the world I choose, the world I let be to be one of color.
of falling–falling into peace.
to have dimensions–tall and short and long and wide and round and square and triangular.
to be bouncy.
I want to see and hear and taste and smell and feel.
I want to be awake.
I want to be alive.